


Silver and Gold

by CrimeAlley1048



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, batfam - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22540183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimeAlley1048/pseuds/CrimeAlley1048
Summary: Dick is eight, Bruce is a dumbass.Hey! This is a collaborative piece with @kurawastaken on tumblr. You can view the complete piece (with art) here:https://oh-mother-of-darkness.tumblr.com/post/189987102991/it-was-cold-in-gotham-cold-enough-for-dick-to
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 1
Kudos: 96





	Silver and Gold

It was cold in Gotham, cold enough for Dick to wear his heavy jacket, his new boots, and his good scarf while he stood outside Wayne Tower. Behind the podium, Bruce began his speech.

“Hello,” he said, flashing a grin. “I’m Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and I won’t keep you long today— I promise.”

That got an appreciative laugh from the crowd gathered around them. Dick squeezed past a few people and into the front of the circle, where he could see. At eight years old, he stood several heads below the adults.

“It’s a new year tomorrow,” Bruce continued, “and here at the Tower we’re celebrating our new programs. They’re all fine initiatives, and I’m not going to talk about them. As a matter of fact, I’m not going to talk about anything.”

The crowd murmured softly. Bruce grinned again.

“I’m supposed to give a speech, or so they told me. I thought for a long time about what I was going to say, and I just couldn’t figure it out, until I talked to Dick Grayson, my foster son. That’s him over there.”

The cameras that had been focused on the stage turned with Bruce’s gesture, towards Dick in his position at the front of the circle. He gave them a little wave.

“I asked Dick what I should do,” said Bruce, “and he told me this: just shut up.”

The crowd laughed again. Dick took a bow.

“Shut up,” Bruce repeated, “and he’s right. I have a loud voice, in person and in the world. I’m a billionaire, a CEO, a rich kid from Gotham that’s never wanted a thing in his life. I’m not the one who should be talking. I do enough of that.”

Bruce’s grin turned into a grave expression. He looked out over the cityscape.

“I should listen. I should shut up and listen, and I urge all of you that are like me to do the same. We need to listen to the voices that matter: the experienced, the knowledgable, the ones who can tell us their own stories. We need to let them speak.”

Bruce shrugged. “That’s all I have to say before I get off this stage and let some other people talk. I’d like to thank Dick for his wisdom, because he is very wise. That’s one of the many reasons I love him.”

Wait.

What?

Dick froze, but only for a second. He didn’t have time to process with cameras focussed on his face; he couldn’t afford to let his smile drop and show the crowd the truth— that Dick had never heard those words before.

_I love him?_

What? Why would Bruce say that?

Who did he think he _was_?

Dick set a small smile firmly on his face and held it there as Bruce’s voice buzzed in front of him— buzzed because Dick couldn’t understand what Bruce was saying anymore.

He didn’t know anything beyond the heartbeat thumping in his ears.

I love him? _I love him?_

Dick startled back into reality as the crowd broke into applause. On stage, Bruce gave a final grin and made his way down the steps. He slipped into the front row, alongside Dick, while the next speaker bounded up to the microphone.

The cameras panned away from Dick, finally. He let the smile slide from his face.

Bruce noticed. He glanced down at Dick, curious, and raised an eyebrow.

In return, Dick gave Bruce the flattest look he could muster, then spent the rest of the program staring intently at the other speakers. Dick and Bruce took pictures afterwards.

They mingled, Dick circling the square while Bruce watched with concerned eyes.

Dick stepped into a camera blind spot and glared at him.

Bruce stepped into another. He raised his eyebrows again, this time in a what-are-you-doing sort of expression.

Glare.

Question?

Glare.

Bruce’s eyes flicked up in exasperation. Dick jerked his head to the side, indicating the entrance to the Tower. He slipped inside as soon as the cameras weren’t looking.

Dick took the elevator up to Bruce’s office, watching the crowd beneath him get smaller through the glass as he went higher and higher. He turned down hallways decorated for the New Year— golden lights and silver streamers— and into the familiar room.

Bruce appeared seconds later, as quietly as he always did, like he had materialized in the office. He opened his mouth to speak.  
Dick beat him to it.

“Hi,” Dick snapped. “What was that?”

“What was—?” Bruce raised his hands, apparently confused.

“That!” Dick put his own hands on his hips, drawing himself up to his full height. “What did you say about me?”

“I said you were… wise?”

“Not that part.”

Bruce’s face hardened. He stepped forward into what Dick recognized as a defensive stance.

“I said I loved you?”

“You said you loved me!” Dick turned away and paced down the center of the room. “Why did you say that?”

“I—”

“Why would you say that on a stage? Oh, I get it, I’m—” Dick spun around again and strode back down the tile, arms outstretched. “—I’m Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and I want you to like me! Look at this little boy. Isn’t he cute?”

“Dick.”

“I’m so glad I could help with your speech and your credibility and your— your reputation and—”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Why am I acting like this?” Dick’s mouth fell open in shock. This was Dick’s fault now? He was the one behaving irrationally? No. No, he was not.

“Yes!” Bruce stepped forward again, forcing Dick to take a step back. “All I said was I love—”

“All you did was play father in public!”

“Dick,” said Bruce. His voice went lower, scarier. “What are you talking about?”

Dick’s vision fuzzed out for a moment: silver static and a roaring in his ears. He felt his face go red in rage as he marched forward, jabbing a finger into Bruce’s chest.

“That! Is! Your! Batman! Voice!”

Bruce blinked, taken aback.

“You do not get,” Dick snapped, “to Batman at me, or yell at me, or say— say what you— Don’t say that!”

“Don’t say that I love you?”

“I said don’t say it.”

“Okay!” Bruce crossed his arms. “I won’t say it anymore. Are you happy?”

“No! Don’t say it, and don’t— don’t look at me like that or, or talk to me like you’re—”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Dick glanced at the golden lights strung from the ceiling, back to Bruce, lights, Bruce again. How was Bruce not getting this? It was simple enough. How much detecting did it take?

“Dick,” Bruce began. Batman again.

“That!” Dick pointed wildly. “That right there! Oh it’s always ‘try harder, Dick, be better, Dick’ and ‘Robin, you’re making mistake after mistake,’ but then the second you need to look good in front of a crowd, it’s different.”

“This has nothing to do with—”

“Don’t say,” Dick ground out, “things that you don’t mean.”

They glared at each other.

“I didn’t,” said Bruce.

“Didn’t what?”

“Say… something I didn’t mean.”

“Oh.”

Dick let his hands fall back to his sides. He turned away from Bruce, looking out through the windows to the skyscrapers across the street. Those glittered with lights too. As Dick watched, snow started to fall, floating outside the glass on gusts of invisible wind. Single flakes thickened into a barrage of white that whipped through the Gotham air.

“Say it again, then,” Dick whispered. “You can— you can say it once.”

“I don’t—?”

“I said fine! You can say it once!”

“I…” Bruce’s voice sounded softer now, while Dick was turned away. “I love you?”

“Okay.”

“And if you don’t want me to say it anymore, then I… won’t.”

“Not now,” said Dick. “Just… not for now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay then.” Dick squeezed his eyes shut, opened them, held his breath, let it out.

“Does that…” Bruce trailed off, unsure. “Does that make it better?”

“No.”

“Do you… want a hug?”

“No.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Um.” Dick struggled for a moment, turned around, raised a hand, then put it back at his side. “I want…”

Bruce waited expectantly.

“I want a smoothie,” Dick decided.

“It’s cold?”

“I want a smoothie. And, and I want to watch the fireworks tonight, and I want Alfred to come with us.”

“Okay.”

“I want to, um, I want to go to school next week, and come back again, and…”

“And?”

“And I… want?”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. “You want to stay?” he suggested.

“Yes,” said Dick. He found that he was crying, tears smearing everything around him into a blur of gold and silver, silver and gold. The first drop fell onto the leather of his new boots, and he brushed the rest away with the sleeve of his coat.

“Yes,” he repeated. “I want to stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kenz, my stars, thank you for making this twice the fic it was before you got ahold of it.


End file.
